


Unusual Liaisons

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [537]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: M/M, post-"Long Haul"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-04-08 08:06:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: Anonymous askedYooooo! Sneaky creep here again





	1. Chapter 1

Normally Scott or John would do this, but with everything else, the onerous duty had fallen to Virgil.  “It’s not too hard, we’re not the spies here,” Scott had briefed him, both of them walking fast across the hangar to Tracy One and the jet waiting to whisk Scott off to deal with some TI business in person.  “Just….check him out.  Obvious red flags.  A badge that reads ‘Ask me about super-villainy.’  That kind of thing.”

Virgil had tried one last time to get out of it.  “The kid’s made a friend.  Surely we should be encouraging that, not…not  _vetting_  him.”

Scott paused, one hand of the slender rail of the narrow stairs up to the waiting jet.  “Wish we didn’t need to? Sure.  Have to? Definitely.”  He smiled fondly and clapped Virgil roughly on the shoulder.  “Think of it as making sure Alan’s not hurt down the line if this guy turns out to be using him to get to TI or the Thunderbirds, yeah?  Thanks, bro, owe you one.”

Virgil waited until the echoes of the jet died away before going to open the dossier John had emailed him half an hour before.

“You can’t just read about him,” John had said in lieu of hello when his call resolved another hour later.  “I can do that.”

Virgil had tossed down his tablet with a sigh that was almost a snarl.  “What, want me to go trail this kid home?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it, you kind of stick out in a crowd. Besides, he’s met you, so you’re already halfway there.”

Virgil rubbed his face.  “Oh my god, that was a rhetorical question.”  He exhaled hard and squared his shoulders.  “This is wrong.”

“This is the price we pay for who we are.” John replied calmly.

Virgil paused, mid-way through levering himself up out of his seat. “Did you and Scott stalk all my friends too?”

John’s answer rattled around Virgil’s brain the entire trip to the UK.  He wondered how his friends interpreted it, having his brothers appear out of nowhere to ask questions.

Though that explained a few sudden disappearances of people out of his life.

Slough wasn’t much on an early winter’s Thursday. Virgil flicked up his collar and followed the signals on his watch down to a side-street off the main shopping area.  John’s dossier had marked out three cafes, ranked by likelihood of finding his target on any given day.

Virgil really, really didn’t want to know how John came by this information,

Inside at least was warm, the fragrance of baking and coffee in the air.  Virgil ordered as he undid his coat, grateful to let it slide off his shoulders onto the arm of an overstuffed sofa as the server hurried over with a mug and a muffin. 

There was only one other person by the windows, black hair falling forward as he bent over a tablet, but as Virgil sat down, he looked up in brief acknowledgement.

The high cheekbones and blue eyes were the same as the last time they’d met, though in the month since he’d dropped back to earth and started emailing Alan almost daily, he’d let his stubble grow in to a respectable shadow along his jawline.  “Virgil? Oh my,” Conrad said, thumbing his tablet into darkness as he sat forward to peer at Virgil over the coffee table.  “It is you! How are you?  What on earth are you doing in Slough”

Virgil wrapped his fingers around his mug and tried to smile his way through small talk.  But being here face to face once more, he couldn’t ignore the same thought he’d had the last time they’d been in the same room.

Conrad was incredibly handsome, and when he laughed at some stupid joke Virgil’s mouth had made without his brain’s intervention, Virgil’s heart skipped a tiny beat.

Virgil tore his muffin in half with more force than was strictly necessary.  Conrad was also Alan’s friend, and a rescue, and someone he was here to  _spy_ on.  His stupid heart could just be quiet.

It continued to hammer a skip-beat regardless.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked  
>  Anon Sneakypants creeping again. All aboard the Virgil & Conrad train if you feel like giving it another whirl. No worries if not

Alan walked into Virgil’s room without knocking and threw his tablet at Virgil’s head. “Hey!” Virgil yelled, almost falling off his bed as he dodged the projectile.

“My friend!” Alan yelped at him, a tiny pent-up ball of impotent rage that was already burning out. “Conrad was my friend! It’s bad enough you had to take Two into space to come get us, but now he wants to hang with you rather than me this weekend!” The fury was fading fast now. “I was looking forward to a weekend off, man, come on, not cool.”

Virgil checked for any other hidden weapons, but Alan had deflated down to a sad, pouting lump. “Come here, short stuff,” he said, swinging his legs around and patting the spot next to him on the mattress. Alan dragged his feet but he came over. He was filling out fast, but he could still fit under Virgil’s arm. “First off, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you guys were making plans, I’ll tell Conrad to forget this weekend, we’ll get tickets another time.”

“You got tickets? Where?”

“Just a gallery opening.” Alan didn’t need to know it was the opening of the new Modigliani show that Virgil had been drooling over since he first heard about it. “We can go another time.”

Alan was squirming now. “But why was Conrad sounding so excited to go? I didn’t know he was into art. I didn’t even know you two were even talking, about art or anything else.”

And here was the rub. “Um, yeah, we’ve been talking. A lot. Um…And the art, well… it’s, um, well you see…” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

Alan twisted out from under his arm to stare at Virgil, wide eyed. “Virgil, was this a _date?_ ”

Virgil winced and shrugged and made a see-saw gesture with his hand. “Maybe. Possibly. Kinda. I think?” They hadn’t used the D-word, but it was sure feeling like a date. The butterflies in his stomach were the first clue, and the way Conrad had blushed and ducked his head and smiled when Virgil had suggested it made him think that maybe Conrad was maybe, kinda, possibly thinking it was a date too.

“Dude!” Alan yelled, dragging Virgil’s attention back to the present. “You are not cancelling. What are you going to wear? London right, it’s still cold there, you should wear those black jeans, guys always turn to stare at your ass when you wear those.”

“Alan!” Virgil laughed, scandalized.

Alan shrugged. “Well, they do. Also,” and Alan’s finger was suddenly in Virgil’s face. “Conrad is my friend, and even being my brother won’t save you if you hurt his feelings.”

Virgil bit back his smile. “Shovel talk, Alan? Nice effort, 7 out of 10, still needs work on the finish.”

Alan made a face, scrunched up and adorable. “I’ll think of something better for when I call Conrad back. Come on,” he said before Virgil could do more than blink in surprise. “Let’s paw past all the plaid in that wardrobe of yours and find what clothes you have that don’t actively suck.”

“Hey!” Virgil protested mildly as he let Alan drag him up off the bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked  
> So... Can I be a pest and request Virgil & Conrad’s maybe, possibly, kinda date next? ;) - Anon Sneakypants

It was quarter to seven am in the UK by the time Virgil got out of the shower.  Towelling his hair dry, he wandered across his room and plonked down on his chair heavily enough to make it creak.  Exhaling heavily, he squared his shoulders and hit the call button.

Conrad picked up on the third ring.  “Big night?” he asked warmly, sitting forward to rest his chin on his hands. He was still in his pjs, blue and white striped, warm and so fluffy Virgil could almost picture the slippers that went with them.

“Not the one I was expecting.  I am so, so, sorry.”

Conrad sat up to wave Virgil’s apologises away.  “Comes with the territory, seriously, I get it.”

“Still.  Sorry.”

Conrad’s smile was warm in the cool light of the holo.  “If it’s any consolation, I was having a great time, right up until disaster struck and whisked you away from me.”

Virgil winced and tried to smile.  “Next time, I’m leaving my phone at home.”

“No you won’t,” Conrad said with equanimity. “Because first and foremost, you are a Thunderbird, and you rescue people. I get that.”  Conrad’s blush almost washed out in the brightness of the holo, but Virgil was looking close enough to make it out. “Is it stupid how proud I am?  Like, the waiter was trying to be all pitying when I left, and I wanted to say to him ‘my guy is off to save someone’s life while you go fetch desserts.’ Or is that weird? It’s weird, right?”

Virgil was grinning now, his earlier worry evaporating.  “Your guy?”

Conrad covered his face.  “Oh gods, did I say that out loud?”

It felt good to laugh, even just for a little while.  “Little bit.”

“Hate you.”

“No you don’t.”  Virgil fiddled with the corner of his towel.  “At least, I hope not, because I still owe you dessert.”

He wasn’t prepared for Conrad to lean in to speak at a tone barely above a whisper.  “Would that count as a third date?”

Virgil swallowed heavily.  “I think it does.”

Conrad sat back.  “I make an  _excellent_ syllabub, if I do say so myself…” he said with more meaning that Virgil felt he could parse right now.

“I don’t even know what that is,” he admitted with a wince as Conrad trailed off.

Conrad covered his eyes.  “I’m dating a recluse, I swear.”  Virgil nearly choked on his tongue, but Conrad continued on blithely.  “I’m doing something with Alan tomorrow, but see if you can play hooky this weekend to come over so I can blow your mind.  With dessert, I mean.”  This time, there was no mistaking the blush.

“In that case, I’ll see what I can do.”

“You do that.  And since I have just woken up and I’m thinking you haven’t been to bed yet, go sleep.”

Virgil sketched a salute and waited until Conrad closed the call before going over to faceplant on his bed and make stupidly happy noises into his pillow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked  
> For when you’ve got spare time... 3rd date maybe? ;) - Anon Sneakypants

Virgil woke slowly, easing back into consciousness slowly for once rather than being yanked away by the blaring of his comm or another alarm.  He smacked his lips, stretching toes under the covers before opening his eyes to see an unfamiliar old analogue clock on the bedside table.

Virgil stared at the big hand pointing straight up for a long, long time as he took stock of his situation.  The comforter was too thick and fluffy for a tropical island, the pillow a little thinner than the one back home. Besides the old style clock was a paper book with its spine turned away from him, and stacked on top an older model tablet of the kind that John would never allow in the villa on pain of pain.

He was alone in the bed; he saved that little detail for last.

Virgil rolled onto his back, feeling his body report back by now unfamiliar feelings.  His skin was a little itchy, salt-dried in the night, with sparks along his throat and down his chest where tiny little bite-sized bruises were already fading.

Virgil continued the roll, picking up new scents as he pressed his face into the other pillow.

So that happened.  He had told Scott he’d be back in time for the morning shift.  Scott would just have to die mad, because Virgil didn’t want to move from this cocoon of blankets and twisted sheets.

Unbidden, his hand reached out to smooth the sheets in the empty space as he tried to organize and catalogue and archive every memory of every moment of the night before.

“Traditionally-” Virgil started, twisting his neck to smile up at the figure lounging in the doorway in a pair of boxers and nothing else. “One gets  _out_ of the bed before trying to make it.”

Virgil rolled onto his back, letting the sheet fall away as he stretched his arms.  He laughed as Conrad made no attempt to hide the fact he was licking his lips.  “Getting out of bed is an idea, but, and hear me out, here’s an alternative. You could get back  _into_  bed.” The  _round two,_ he felt, went unsaid.

Conrad gestured over his shoulder.  “Alternative alternative,” he grinned.  “We get out of bed, eat some of this breakfast I just  _slaved_ over the stove making, and then maybe share a shower?”  Virgil broke out laughing again as Conrad even waggled his eyebrows.

The smells of frying bacon and fresh toast were wafting over the bed now, and Virgil’s stomach growled.  Flipping off the last corner of the sheet, Virgil rolled out of bed and glanced around.  “Where are my pants?”

Conrad’s fingers were warm and strong as he caught Virgil’s bicep and squeezed gently.  “Pants not required for dining at Chez Conrad,” he leered cheerfully, dragging Virgil in for a kiss.  “Good morning, by the way.”

Virgil caught Conrad’s jaw for a longer, deeper kiss.  “Morning yourself.”

By the time they got to the kitchen, the food had gone cold, but it still tasted delicious.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon Sneakypants again 

Thunderbird Two was purring, a deep rolling rumble that almost drowned out the faint whistling from down in the hold as Gordon tended his own baby.

Virgil cocked an ear for a moment, judging how long Gordon would be before flicking a few switches on his comm.  The line rang and rang and rang before finally connecting.  “I’m still mad at you.”

Virgil exhaled hard.  “But you picked up…” he pointed out with naked relief.  “So I’m hoping that maybe you’re ready to hear my apology?”

Conrad exhaled hard.  “Maybe,” he said flatly, avoiding Virgil’s eyes.  “But it better be a damn good excuse.”

Virgil winced.  “No excuses,” he admitted.  “I can’t…this is my  _life_ ,” he said with a little shrug.  “I can’t….I am who I am. But I am sorry you got caught up in it.”

Conrad’s shoulders drooped, the heel of his palm rubbing hard against the bridge of his nose for a moment. “Is it stupid of me that I can handle the rescues at all hours, no problem, but the  _paparazzi_ …?”

“They do suck,” Virgil noted, checking his instruments briefly.

“Virgil,” Conrad asked slowly, craning as if he could see off the edge of the holo-field. “Where are you?”

“Currently…” he confirmed his coordinates.  “Fifteen thousand feet above Greenland.  Mach 3,” he added like it was important.

“Are you on a rescue?”

“Returning home. All safe and sound, research base stabilized.  No big.”

This time Conrad rubbed his temples with both hands. “Your life,” he laughed incredulously.  “Is insane.”

Virgil sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I prefer complicated.” He exhaled hard at Conrad’s little chuckle.  “Too complicated to be worth it?” he asked, voice the size of an ant.

Conrad’s pause stretched too long for comfort.  “No,” he said at last.  “Still worth it.  Just don’t you dare leave me facing the paparazzi alone ever again, mister!”  Virgil was nodding furiously as Conrad continued almost sweetly.  “Otherwise I’ll tell them a truth worse than you snore and are a cover hog.”

Virgil gulped. “You….talked to them?”

Conrad beamed.  “Don’t ever leave me to the wolves again.” He winked and leaned in as if reaching for the controls of his comm.  “Now fly safe, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”  He even blew a kiss before the comm cut out.

Virgil stared out through the front windshield blankly.  “I am so dead,” he told his Bird. “So, so dead.”


End file.
